


Love In Perpetuity

by M_E_Lover



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: AU, Blood Drinking, But not really too much blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, What Machine?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14828345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_E_Lover/pseuds/M_E_Lover
Summary: Nathan Ingram has bequeathed his closest friend Harold Wren a large estate in Romania. Harold travel's to the property to decide whether he will keep it or sell it to a mysterious Baron from the region. The Baron already knows what he wants but after a tragic accident leaves Harold gravely injured, will Harold accept John's offer of everlasting life or will he choose to die a mortal death instead?





	Love In Perpetuity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blue_Finch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Finch/gifts).



> This has been daunting to say the least. I have such love and admiration for Blue_Finch's work I was really nervous about receiving them for the exchange. I have spent so many truly pleasurable hours reading and re-reading their stories, I can only hope they like what I've done a fraction as much.  
> Rinch is not in my normal repertoire but I wanted to challenge myself, I have my fingers crossed that I did okay. I also hope that it is "Rinchy" enough for Blue_Finch, lol. I did my best.  
> .. So here goes nothing!
> 
> Comments would be appreciated, thanks!

 

_Sir Edward W. Farley Esq. requests the presence of Mr. Harold M. Wren, to meet with him at his law offices at the address of 1213 N. Whitehall Ct. London, the day of our Lord, Wednesday May 5 th 1889, at precisely 1pm relating to the discussion of business matters regarding one Mr. Nathaniel Ingram._

_Signed,_

_Jonathan Moore, personal secretary to Mr. E. Farley._

Harold had been guided along a long corridor of rooms to the main office of the business _‘Farley and Associates,’_ He sat himself down in a comfortable leather armchair and waited anxiously, anticipating the meeting with the venerated Edward Farley himself; business attorney and private legal counsel for his best friend of fifteen years, the late Nathan Ingram.

The impressively large office was paneled in rich mahogany with dark hues of brown and burgundy making up the interior furniture and window dressings. It was also lined with books along every wall and Harold found himself quite pleased and impressed with the variety of subjects and styles the tomes consisted of.

He leaned towards the shelves closest to his chair and regarded the volumes that he could see with great interest and appreciation.

Harold had always been a passionate lover of the arts in general and of the written word in particular.

Currently, his favorite distraction was a young Irish bard called Oscar Wilde, an innovative and avant-garde free spirit that had taken Europe and the Americas by storm.

Harold had met him once at a social event in London and took an immediate liking to him. He learned that the young Mister Wilde had been highly educated and was extremely skilled not just with the written but the spoken word as well. He possessed a natural charm and wit, and a wonderful joie de vivre that was sorely lacking in society by and large.

Harold was thrilled and delighted to see, in such an unlikely setting, one of the unconventionally progressive artist’s books of poetry on the shelf nearest his chair.

He owned his own copy of course, housed in the library at his private residence, but couldn’t resist pulling it from the shelf anyway to page through as he waited. It was a small diversion from the nervous expectancy of meeting with the highly esteemed man he’d heard so much of through Nathan.

The meeting that he’d been beckoned to left him feeling somewhat anxious. Nathan had been Harold’s dearest friend for fifteen years, and while they were very close, Harold really had no idea why he should be summoned to the attorney’s office.

He had arrived fifteen minutes early, plenty of time to ponder aimlessly about what this meeting might entail.

Perhaps he’d been included in his friend’s will and left with something Nathan had been fond of, to commemorate their deep friendship and kindred spirits, something to remember him by.

Not since his deceased father had Harold ever known anyone who was as generous and benevolent a man as Nathan Ingram had been. Harold had grown to love and care for him as he imagined he would have a brother.

His dear friend’s death had been a terrible and agonizing blow to Harold and all who had ever truly known Nathan. The sudden illness and subsequent deterioration of his health had bewildered everyone he’d been close to from the start.

Even his family doctor and the numerous specialists who had tried every conceivable treatment to slow and forestall what had led to his inevitable death, had been clueless as to what had taken hold of the robust and vibrant man with such speed and aggressiveness.

The mysterious disease Nathan had contracted somehow had overwhelmed him summarily and within three weeks of his first symptom… he was dead.

Harold had been on hand to witness and aid in Nathan’s hard fought struggle from the very beginning. Offering comfort and assistance where he could without hesitation and no fear or thought for his own well-being. Through it all he was by Nathan’s side until the bitter end.

It had been extraordinarily difficult for him to watch the manifestations of suffering, both physically and mentally, playing out day after day, seeming to intensify with every hour on his gentle friend.

The hardest thing Harold had ever had to do in his life, other than burying his beloved father a few years earlier, was to watch the strength and the fight drain from Nathan’s battle weary eyes.

Harold felt a pain in his chest from the memory when the door opened behind him. He quickly composed himself as a tall older gentleman judiciously entered the room.

Harold stood immediately and turned his stiff body toward the distinguished man. The man smiled kindly at him and offered him his hand without preamble, “Mister Wren sir, I am immensely sorry for your loss.”

Harold swallowed the lump in his throat while he shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, sir,” he replied quietly.

“I am Edward Farley and I knew Nathan all of his life,” he began, “Please… sit.” he let go of Harold’s hand and indicated that Harold should take the chair he arose from.

Sir Edward walked around the ornate mahogany desk and sat across from him.

“I was very close to Nathan’s father and had the honor of being present when he was christened as a baby.” Edward smiled at the memory, “Had you known his father before he passed?”

Harold shook his head, “No sir, but I have heard many wonderful things about him and I know that Nathan adored him.”

The smile faded from the older man’s lips, “It was a great shock to us all when we learned of Nathan’s illness and subsequent death.”

“As it was for everyone sir,” Harold replied pensively.

He was still trying to come to grips with how swiftly it had overtaken Nathan and the manner of his death, having been only four weeks prior. The tragic circumstance that surrounded the sorrowful event was still haunting Harold almost all hours of the day.

“Mister Wren…?” Sir Edward prompted him gently.

“Yes, I’m sorry sir. Please forgive me.” Harold took a deep breath, “It’s just… it’s all still so fresh… like a horrible nightmare that I have not yet roused from.”

“Understandable, Mister Wren. I am aware of your long standing friendship with Nathan.” Edward smiled sadly, acknowledging Harold’s despair. “Do you know why you are here this afternoon?”

Harold shook his head, “I have no idea, sir, no.”

Edward seemed a bit surprised but quickly came to the point, “Nathan had stipulated in his will that you are to be beneficiary to a large parcel of property that he’d acquired in Romania.” He waited to gage Harold’s reaction with great interest. Harold was dumfounded and rendered speechless.

“I take it, he had never mentioned this estate to you?”

Harold shook his head slowly, still incredulous as he tried to process the unexpected information.

Sir Edward went further, “The property consists of twenty-four hundred acres and a large manor house." he pulled the deed from his desk drawer and presented it to Harold across the desk.

Harold leaned forward and took the legal document, “I don’t… I’m not…” he stammered, “Why didn’t Nathan tell me anything about this?” he mused aloud as he stared at the deed.

“That I have no answer for Mister Wren.” Sir Edward sat back in his chair, “But I have to inform you that you must claim this property within four weeks or it will revert back to the original owner and you will lose whatever value is on said property.”

“Four weeks?” Harold shook his head, “I… I’m not sure I can tie up my business affairs here in that short amount of time. I’m not even sure what this actually entails. How can I just take up roots and go move to another country?” he remarked anxiously, “I would have to leave the only home I’ve ever known… how do I know if it is something that I would even want?”

Edward watched him quietly while Harold tried to absorb everything.

 _“What were you thinking, Nathan?”_ he mused softly, lost in thought.

After a long moment, Sir Edward spoke up. “If I may make a suggestion?”

Harold roused from his stupor and nodded, “Please do.”

“If it were me, if it were at all possible, I would take a trip to assess the estate.” he began. “I would stay for a week, perhaps a bit longer if need be and decide then whether it would be in my best interest to move there, or to sell the property to a third party.”

 “As it happens,” Sir Edward sat forward, “a week after Nathan’s passing, I received an offer to be presented to the beneficiary of the land when all of the legalities were taken care of and an appropriate grieving period had elapsed.” Sir Edward pulled out another piece of parchment from the drawer, “This is the offer,” he slid the legal document across his desk towards Harold. "It's quite a generous proposal, it's from a neighboring landowner, a nobleman whose family has owned tens of thousands of acres surrounding your parcel for many generations.

Harold took up the paper and regarded it, “How did Nathan acquire a property directly in the middle of another?” He scanned the document distractedly. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

The name of the nobleman stood out to him, _‘Baron John Reese’_. Somehow the name stirred something in him… something warm and familiar, he felt immediately as though he knew it somehow, but could not place from where or why he felt such an allure upon seeing it.

“That information I cannot help you with,” Sir Edward replied. “Nathan came to me with the deed six months ago and did not go into detail about how he’d managed to acquire it.” Sir Edward sat back in his chair and grinned faintly. “It seems our friend was very much the enigma to us both.”

Harold was as still reeling from the idea that his very close friend who he’d thought he’d known so well, had just gifted him with something as significant and valuable as this and he had no idea at the moment what he should do. He was now a landowner like it or not and he needed to decide quickly on his course of action.

“Mister Wren, why don’t you sleep on it and call upon me tomorrow afternoon.” Edward smiled warmly and stood up. “I will keep my schedule clear until you arrive and we’ll discuss matters a bit more, does that sound agreeable to you?”

Harold stood and offered his hand to the older gentleman and shook it, “Yes and thank you, sir. You’ve been most kind. I will do as you suggest and be back tomorrow to tell you of my decision.”

Sir Edward nodded and smiled, “I look forward to seeing you then.”

*************

When Baron John Reese discovered that his distant cousin had lost the tract of land that had belonged to his family for generations, had practically given it away, he was furious.

And that it had been lost to a man in a game of cards no less, made him seethe with anger. Had his cousin not disappeared after this unforgivable act in the interim, the Baron might have killed him himself for his indiscretion.

The property, for many thousands of miles in all directions, had been won in an ancient and hard fought war of clans.

John and his relative were the last of the Reese bloodline and John had been around to love and appreciate its rich and varied landscape for hundreds of years, and would for hundreds more, barring being killed by someone outright.

Maintaining his family’s land, his only legacy, was the most important thing he had left to him. Being a vampire with no children and a wife no longer, having lost his wife Jessica to a sudden epidemic of smallpox over two hundred years ago, left him nothing but his inherited land to cling to.

He would do almost anything in the world to recover what had been lost and preserve it wholly intact until his dying day.

He had put his offer in to the man who was now the rightful owner and could do nothing but wait and see if he could be persuaded to sell it back to him.

The man called Harold Wren would most likely come to survey the property and then decide what he would do with it. Given the right incentive, perhaps John could convince Mister Wren to sell and they could both be content in the end.

Curiously, John had felt something flow through him as soon as he had seen the man’s name. An overwhelming expectation about him. A pleasant intuition… a warmth that he could not ignore found its way into his very depths and he was extremely eager to meet him and find out why.

************* 

Harold went home directly and poured himself a drink. Sitting by the fireplace in his library, he sipped the snifter of brandy and stared into the flames. _'What were you thinking Nathan?'_ he mused.

He sat and pondered the avenues available to him for a long while before doing as Sir Edward suggested and sleeping on the decision. He got up the next morning and bathed, dressed and left right away for the attorney’s office.

Decision made, he couldn’t wait until the afternoon. He went back to Sir Edward and informed him immediately of what he had decided upon.

“I will leave as soon as possible to go to the property and assess it.” Harold informed the older man and was met with a nod of approval and a handshake.

“Do let me know as soon as possible how you will be proceeding with the property.” Sir Edward asked, "And have a safe journey my young friend."

Harold agreed readily, “You will hear something from me as soon as I’ve made my decision and I will do my very best to get there in one piece." he teased the older man cheerfully. He started to leave but turned back suddenly.

Harold took the man’s hand and shook it sincerely, grasping it firmly between his own. ”Thank you sir… I appreciate everything you've done for me," he smiled before adding, "Nathan was fortunate to have you in his life.” The kindly attorney accepted the handshake firmly and returned the sentiment in kind. "I was the lucky one," he replied with a tear in his eye. Sir Edward smiled as he watched Harold leave. Nathan had chosen a good man to gift his land to the scholarly gentleman thought to himself... a very good man.

Now Harold had four weeks to get to the country and determine whether he would take on this massive property himself or sell it back to the aristocrat that had made him the offer. There was no time to lose, the journey would take longer than he was comfortable with and he wasn't sure how much time he would need to check everything out on the property. But most of all, the time recovering from all of the toil his body would be subjected to was the biggest worry on his mind.

In the two days preceding the trip, he’d made travel arrangements and sent word ahead that he would need an interpreter and a driver for the coach awaiting him when he arrived in Romania.

Harold spoke fluent French and would have no need of an interpreter in France.

His itinerary would begin with leaving London by boat and crossing the English Channel overnight to Calais, France. From there he would travel by rail four nights until he reached a small town called Fagarus in the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains.

The Romanian interpreter, who would also conveniently be the coachman, called Josef, would meet him there and be his travel guide for the remaining journey ahead.

Harold had learned that with the increasing altitude through the bordering mountains would be a cold, grueling, ten or more hour carriage ride through treacherous terrain before taking the last stop in Soars, Romania. They would stay overnight before the final trip to his newly acquired estate. The last leg of the journey would add an additional four or more hour carriage ride to the already difficult journey.

Harold knew that the trip would not be an easy one and he almost decided not to make it at all. It was going to take every scrap of strength and tenacity he possessed to make it through the long journey ahead without incident. The train travel alone would be hard enough on his poor body, but the carriage part of the journey through the rugged mountain pass would be worse by far.

Living with perpetual chronic pain caused from prior injuries he’d sustained two years ago in a carriage mishap, he fully realized that at some point he would more than likely have to rely on medicinal pain relief to manage his compromised physical condition. He didn't want to, but he knew he would have to in order to endure the many miles of rough travel conditions he would be forcing his damaged body through.

Harold had been seriously hurt and nearly killed when the driver of a horse drawn carriage had been traveling in the city at an excessive rate of speed and veered off his path, running him down; the horse’s had trampled and dragged him under their hooves for almost a hundred yards before they had finally been brought under control.  

His mobility had been forever compromised, leaving behind a perpetual sore, stiff neck; and lower back and hip damage. The nightmares from the incident still haunted him frequently.

He’d been told at the time of the accident that it was a miracle he’d survived at all, and spent the majority of a year recovering. The sheer pain of broken bones and countless lacerations and contusions to his entire body had been absolutely unbearable and he had quickly become dependent on laudanum.

His body and mind had been nearly irreparably broken and he would have surely died had it not been for Nathan’s unending patience and support. There were countless times Harold wanted to give up and let himself succumb to his inner demons and end it all.

But through everything, his compassionate and loving friend steered him through the worst of his ordeal, bolstering what little strength he had in body and mind to keep him alive. It had taken every ounce of strength and willpower he could find to free himself from the contented haze of oblivion the treatment had offered to begin rebuilding his life again.

The sheer and utter pain and deep, dark depression that he had succumbed to through the drug and had to claw his way out of, was a hellish nightmare he _never_ wished to repeat.

Now, Harold only took the prescribed laudanum he when absolutely necessary. He would undeniably rather suffer through the ever present pain he endured in his daily life than to take the risk of ever allowing himself to give in to the alluring spell cast from the highly addictive drug again.

*************

The day had arrived and the final preparations had been seen to.

Harold had decided that the first order of business when he arrived at the estate, and after a day of recovery from the long journey, would be to take an inventory of the property. Then he would immediately make an appointment to meet with the neighboring _‘Baron’_ to discuss his offer.

Inexplicably, that meeting was the only part of the excursion he was actually looking forward to. John Reese was a man he was very much excited to meet face to face. He didn’t question himself about it, but for some unknown reason it sent a small thrill of expectation through him when he thought about the baron and he was content to let it be.

He’d made the journey overnight to Calais without incident and boarded the early train to Fagurus to start the second leg of the trip.

As expected, but much sooner than anticipated, Harold’s pain level hit its peak on the second day of the train ride. The constant jerking and juddering of motion along the uneven metal tracks, in addition to the locomotives perpetual bouncing, all played hell on his injuries.

He sat in his private stateroom for hours into the evening, staring at the bottle of laudanum vibrating on the table next to the window. He could virtually hear its seductive call, beckoning to him wantonly… cruelly.

He’d resisted for as long as he could. With his hands trembling with pain, he remorsefully gave in and took the syringed rubber topper from the brown glass bottle.

He placed the syringe back inside the opium laced liquid, squeezed the rubber bulb and then released it, pulling the potent elixir inside the small clear pipette. Already knowing his tolerance for the drug from the past, he added six drops to a small glass of wine and watched the integration of the two liquids as he agitated the contents.

They intermingled with intimate and familiar ease, drawing him in and hypnotizing him with their tantalizing dance until they were one.

With relief available to him only moments away, Harold stared into the glass for another long while before finally giving in to its temptation and drinking the concoction down.

He hated himself to his very core for needing to rely on this despised means of relief again. It had taken almost everything from him, physically and psychologically and he was frightened to death that he would succumb to its enticing allure of blissful oblivion all over again and lose himself for good.

He’d gone without it for many months now and as hard as it was he’d managed until this day. This day was his undoing, it was too much for his body to take and it had been put through unbearable stress and strain for much too long.

With tearful regret and with much more effort than there should have to be, Harold positioned what pillows he had to support his body, lay down on the uncomfortable mattress and closed his eyes, awaiting welcome release.

************

_“Harold you’re going to love this place!” Nathan put his arm around Harold’s shoulders and smiled as they stood outside the large gothic manor house and took it in, admiring the inordinate charm in every stone._

_“But my home is in London, Nathan. Why would you leave this to me?” Looking up at the place, Harold felt dwarfed by the massive structure but he couldn’t help but to feel its appeal._

_“Because, my friend, you deserve happiness,” Nathan began, “and you’re not getting any of that in London.”_

_“I’m as happy as I need to be, Nathan… I’m content, you know that.” Harold looked up at his tall gregarious friend and smiled, “I’m fine… truly. You shouldn’t worry about me.”_

_Nathan shook his head, his smile faltered. “But I do worry about you, Harold,” he began earnestly. “You spend all of your time cooped up in your house, working on God only knows what. You need something else in your life. You need a change, my friend.”_

_He smiled again, “And this…” Nathan threw his hands out and turned around, proposing the view of peaceful quiet and lovely landscape surrounding them. “This is the change you need, this is where you’ll find everything you’ve longed for, everything you deserve in your life.”_

_Harold scoffed and shook his head, “We’ll see,” he replied and smiled at his thoughtful friend._

_As they stood there admiring the large manor, Harold spied the image of a tall dark haired man in the window of the second floor of the elegant house. He couldn’t quite make out much of the man’s features but he seemed to be looking down at them and a strange feeling he could not identify came over him._

_“Nathan… who is that man?” He asked curiously._

_“Where?”_

_“There, looking out from the second floor.” Harold’s eyes were locked onto the enigmatic figure._

_“Oh… him.” Nathan smiled at his bespectacled friend, “He must come with the property.” The grin on Nathan’s face broke out into a wide, knowing smile._

_Harold’s eyes narrowed but never left the man’s form as he scoffed, “Who is he, Nathan?” The figure didn’t move from the spot but now Harold could see his face clearly and the man’s focus was on him. The handsome stranger smiled in to his eyes and suddenly he felt overwhelmingly peaceful and serene._

_“Huh, I really have no idea Harold, but whoever he is, he sure makes an impression.” Nathan chuckled._

_Harold couldn’t pull his gaze away, he was suddenly and inexplicably overcome and enraptured by the sight of him. He felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame and wished he could touch him, to feel the solid warmth of his body beneath his hands, to explore and caress his flesh, to make him feel as wonderful as just the sight of him made Harold feel._

_His heart picked up speed and beat hard in his chest until all of a sudden, as if he’d never stood there at all, the figure vanished from sight._

************

The train shuddered abruptly and cruelly roused Harold from his pleasurable delusion. As he lay there and prepared himself to move, he tried to recall the details of his dream.

He wanted to evoke that handsome face that had so entranced him, had made him experience such palpable… exultation. He wanted to commit it to his memory so he could think upon the man again, even if he was just a figment of his imagination.

Regretfully, he had to get himself moving lest he be completely useless for the rest of the day. He levered himself upright painstakingly and looked through the small compartment window. It was the third dawn of four for the train portion of the journey and he couldn’t wait to be done with the inconvenience and the toil that went with it soon enough.

Although his pain had decreased significantly overnight his mind was sluggish from the drug and he felt ill. He hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t need to yield to it again and delve back into the despised potion a second time.

Harold was a pessimist by nature though and knew the carriage ride would be far worse on his already overtaxed body than the train had been thus far, but it was out of his control, all he could do was hope for the best and try and bear what lay ahead as far as he was able.

The last twenty-four hours he stayed inside his cabin almost entirely, only leaving the seclusion the stateroom provided to relieve himself or to stretch his sorely stiff muscles by walking the length of the train car as often as he could force himself to.

He had no want of food as the pain leeched any appetite from him but he understood that if he were to have the strength to make it to his destination, his body required fuel. He forced himself to eat as often as he could throughout the day and evening.

Fruit, bread, and cheese had been the order of the day more often than not, and with a few glasses of wine in accompaniment he was able to get through the required effort of chewing.

Mostly though, he laid on the mattress attempting to read and keep himself and his body relaxed, trying to ride out the perpetual motion of the rail-car as best he could. He had been successful in staying away from laudanum for the rest of the journey to Fagarus, and considered the achievement a small victory.

*************

When he got off the train in the early morning hours, dawn had just broken the horizon and the air was crisp and invigorating. The countryside had been absolutely lovely and the small stops along the rail appeared to be quaint and inviting.

Had it not been for the drudgery he would have had to put upon himself, he would have been more than happy to have gotten off at each stop and attempt to visit with the locals.

Harold had his luggage removed and loaded on to the awaiting carriage. His strength was already nearly spent as he made his way to the train depot and looked around the station for Josef, his interpreter and coachman.

Half an hour later he was becoming concerned and frustrated. He didn’t bother trying to speak with the station manager, discovering that the man spoke no English whatsoever.

He sat alone, with only the small station’s staff of two flitting around here and there and an old organ grinder and his monkey sharing a meal together on the far side of the depot.

Finally, Harold saw a man come through the double doors and marked him sitting on the bench. The man approached and immediately began to apologize for his delay.

He was impressively fluent with English as he began explaining, “I am so sorry, Mister Wren. My little girl has suddenly become ill and my wife had to go out and get her some medicine,” he began in earnest. “I could not leave her alone. I hope you can forgive my delay, please sir.”

Harold raised his hand tolerantly, “It is perfectly understandable,” he replied. “Let us put it behind us and move on, if we could.”

Harold offered his hand to shake, “I am Harold, and you are Josef, correct?

The man smiled and accepted Harold’s handshake gratefully, “Yes sir, thank you,” he replied and pumped Harold’s hand, relaxing a bit. He felt intuitively that Harold was a kind gentleman.

“I do hope your daughter will be alright” he remarked sincerely, “and please, there’s no need for formality. Call me Harold.”

The man let out a deep breath and nodded, “Thank you, Harold.”

“Shall we get started then?” Harold suggested eagerly. He couldn’t be done with the traveling soon enough. The quicker he got to the estate, the better off he’d be in every regard.

His body was progressively showing signs of fatigue and weariness from the grind, and the pain that was manageable at the moment would likely rear its ugly head again very soon.

Josef picked up the small bag that sat beside Harold and they made their way outside and toward the carriage, “Am I correct in assuming that that this will be a long and arduous journey?” Harold asked lightly, already anticipating the answer.

“Unfortunately the answer is yes, sir. I am very sorry.” Josef noticed the obvious stiff posture and heavy gate his charge possessed. He could only imagine how difficult the unpredictably bumpy and potentially hazardous trip was going to be on his new employer.

They got to the coach and Josef opened the side door and set Harold’s bag inside on one side of the benches. Harold placed his stronger, right foot on the rung and pulled himself up and inside the small compartment gingerly.

He smiled at the young man and sat back on the padded bench and tried to get settled, “Let us get a start then Josef. I’d like to get to my destination as soon as possible.” he announced, “And please… call me Harold.”

Josef smiled and nodded. “As you wish Harold, thank you. Just sit back and rest assured that I will be as swift as possible to get you safely to your property.” He closed the door and Harold nervously noted that he could feel every movement the coach made with the weight of the man getting up into the driver’s seat.

He knew then for certain that he was on his way for a world of hurt when that negligible motion was enough to jar his bones. He swallowed hard and looked across the space to the other bench. To the bag containing a book, a few sundry items, some fruit and wine for the trip... and the laudanum.

He took a deep breath as he heard Josef crack the whip and urge the team of horses forward… then the carriage began to move.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as they started along the rough expanse of compacted dirt and gravel that made up the roadway. His overtaxed body was being punished cruelly with every perpetual divot, pothole, and rock as the wheels rolled over them.

By the time they had been on the journey for five hours, it was all he could do not to cry out at every movement the coach made.

*************

John Reese was in his study preparing to read a book when his manservant interrupted him to bring him his evening meal. “How is Rebecca fairing this night, William?” John inquired as he took the glass of warm blood from the silver serving tray. The farm girl that readily offered her blood to help sustain the Baron had had her share of difficulties.

“She is well, sir; her sister has been looked after and expected to live,” William smiled at the Baron, “She sends her regards. She had to leave quickly to help her father with his own ailments or she would have waited to thank you herself.”

John smiled, “I understand,” he replied wistfully, “When you see her next, give her twice again what she normally receives and ask her to pass it along to Amelia. Her family struggles as well; I’m aware.”

“I have already, Baron.” William replied audaciously, “Is there anything else you require before I leave for my home?”

John smirked at his faithful employee, “No, thank you, William. Please send my regards to your lovely wife and I will see you again next week.”

“Thank you, sir. I will.” William always left his master with great sadness for him.

The Baron was a warmhearted and compassionate man, but he was a lonely man. He wished that he would once again find happiness with another to replace the solitude and isolation in his life.

John finished his meal and sat down, putting his focus into what he would say to Mister Wren when they finally met. His concentration had been waning as the time grew nearer to meeting him. Expectations were high and he felt an excited anticipation building in him.

He knew that Harold was on his way to the property. He could perceptibly feel the man’s presence growing nearer. He had not experienced such a manifestation of awareness in another since Jessica and the feeling was… exhilarating and hopeful, but also discomforting.

He had a vague awareness of pain and distress running throughout his body, as if his bones were being wrenched. He attributed it to connected empathy… he could palpably feel the terrible pain that Harold was experiencing as he traveled along the rough terrain. His heart ached from the thought of the gentle soul being made to suffer so cruelly.

He wished that he could take on that heavy burden from the poor man and bear it for him instead. Even though he had never met him he was connected to him in many ways already.

John's senses were working around the clock and had been since the day Harold had left London, enlightening him, giving him an unbreakable and unerring intuition about the man.

John instinctively understood Harold’s irreproachable character, his mental genius and aptitude in a wide variety of subjects, his inner strength and courage and best of all his undying compassion and altruistic approach to humanity.

With every minute of time and turn of the coach’s wheels drawing Harold closer to him, John’s heart was steadily opening up for him and filling with love. What this meant for John was clear.

Harold Wren was his soulmate. There was no doubt in his mind and John believed with all of his heart that Harold would feel the same when they finally met face to face.

As he sat and channeled Harold’s emotional state, John felt profound sadness and helplessness for Harold’s ongoing suffering. But it was out of his control for right now. As frustrating as it was, all he could do was to wait and hope that Harold didn’t have to go through his agony much longer. As soon as Harold arrived, he could finally help him.

************

Harold’s clothing was becoming saturated with sweat as it trickled down the sides of his face and neck, settling into the folds of his starched collar. Even though the temperature was on the chilly side, his undershirt was soaked through and stuck against his body like a wet bathing costume.

Early into the journey, Harold had pulled the book and the wine from his bag and then quickly shoved it away with the remainder of the items under his seat to remove the visual temptation of the laudanum from sight. But there was always the thought of it being so near, niggling away at his brain.

At one point, he’d tried reading to distract himself from the excruciating pain coursing through his spine and into his hip, but soon gave up the attempt.

 All he could focus on was trying to breathe through and wait out the agony for as long as he possibly could, praying that he could hold out long enough to get to the layover in Soars without having to medicate himself.

They would rest overnight in the small town and that thought of respite alone had kept his resolve from crumbling.

Josef, with his natural inclination towards kindness, would every so often shout above the noise of horse’s hooves against the rugged weathered road, and the sound of creaking and grinding the carriage produced, to inquire of his passenger, “Is everything alright in there, Harold?”

Unable to communicate a whole sentence through his agony, Harold would shout back as loud as he was able, “Yes, Josef,” before biting back the urge to cry out from the pain.

He had in no way prepared himself enough nor anticipated the travel conditions harshly enough, for what was being done to his poor body during the trip, and he cursed himself for being a fool. He should have just sold the property outright, sight unseen to the Baron and saved himself all of this wretchedness.

He was very close to passing out from the continuous infliction of agony now. The heat radiating from his pain ridden body had become intolerable, adding to his profound misery.

Many miles ago he had divested himself of every garment he’d had on above the waist, leaving only his undershirt and tailored dress shirt to cover his upper body. The progressive drop in temperature as they reached higher into the mountains did nothing for it; he was burning up.

He was very near his breaking point for the second time. He needed the aid of the accursed laudanum once again, and again he was disgusted with himself for having to give in to its detested glamour. 

As if on cue the coach slowed to a stop and he felt Josef’s weight shift as he jumped down from his seat. Harold didn’t think that the trip to Soars was even halfway through and assumed the man was stopping to see if he wanted to stretch his legs and perhaps fulfill the need to relieve himself before they made the next few hours journey.

Harold quickly wiped the beads of sweat from his face and brow and tried to slow his breathing, composing himself to the best of his ability before Josef turned the handle of the door.

The broad smile fell from the man’s face when he swung open the door and revealed the condition of the occupant inside.

“My… my God, Harold…” he stammered anxiously, “Are you alright?” Josef was stunned at the sight of the previously meticulously dressed and composed man he’d met just a few hours ago. Harold looked like death warmed over.

He was drawn and pale and breathing heavily. His shirt was soaked through to the skin and he barely seemed able to move or even to breathe without extreme distress, Josef’s heart constricted in his chest.

Harold took a long moment to find his voice so as not to frighten the young man further. “I… I’m in quite…” he tried haltingly, “quite a lot of pain, Josef.” He tried to smile and ease the utter concern written on the young man’s face.

Josef swallowed and replied sympathetically. “What can I do?”

“I’m afraid... there’s nothing you can do… short of doing away with me… putting me out of my misery as it were.” Harold did manage a forced smile at that. The look on Josef’s face was pure dismay. “I’m teasing you… my friend…” Josef looked only a tiny bit easier. “I’m going to have to take some medicine,” Harold announced somberly. “And when the effects take hold…” he looked away in shame as he continued. “I’m afraid… that I won’t be able to communicate… or respond for some time afterward.”

Josef stepped closer to the opening of the compartment and met Harold’s eyes, “I understand.” He smiled sadly, “My father was ill and in great pain for a very long time when I was a child. I never want to see another human being suffer like that again.” Harold’s eyes welled up at Josef’s heartfelt declaration. “How can I help you, Harold?”

Harold smiled with gratitude and quickly blinked away the tears. “I think… I need to get some blood flowing through my body again first.”

He wanted to get as much mobility he could manage back into his stiff joints and limbs before medicating himself into insensibility again. “If you would be so kind?” He put his hand out and Josef took it gingerly, supporting him by the arm and gently tugging him from the cramped compartment.

Harold used the leverage of the doorframe to help pull himself from the opposite side, holding his breath and wincing from the effort.

Josef braced his torso as Harold’s right foot was placed on the step and he inclined his body towards the young man. He then allowed Josef to take more of his weight as his weaker leg made contact with the ground quickly followed by the right and he began the attempt to stand on his own two feet.

Harold leaned against the strong young body for support then tested his left leg, carefully putting more of his weight on it. “Ahh!” Hot tendrils of pain radiated from his neck down the entire length of his body, sending a flash of fire through his nervous system.

He faltered and nearly collapsed while Josef had to pivot him back towards the step of the carriage and sit him down as gently as he could while Harold fought to remain conscious.

“What are we going to do?” Josef asked anxiously. “I don’t know what to do!”

Josef was panicking and Harold’s head and his vision was swimming. “Calm…yourself, Josef,” he forced out, trying to get his breathing and equilibrium under control.

“My bag…” he breathed out. “Under… under the bench…”

Josef leaned around Harold as he sat with his eyes closed, utterly still but the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he took long, deep breaths through his nose and let them out as slowly as he could manage.

“Here sir… it’s here.” Josef held the bag out.

Harold could see the young man’s hands were shaking. “I need the glass and some wine.” He stated intently, “It’s just there on the seat.” He couldn’t turn his body, he could barely remain upright and he hated what he was going to have to ask the frightened man next.

He’d finally managed to get his breathing slowed so that he didn’t feel as though he were going to hyperventilate and lose consciousness.

He was under no illusion that he would be able to get himself back inside the coach compartment without help. Hell, he didn’t believe he would be able to move on his own at all and therefore had to ask his poor young friend to accomplish the act for him. It made him feel ashamed and weak, but desperation won out; he had no other choice.

“Josef…,” he began, swallowing thickly, his mouth had suddenly gone dry from the mortification of having to ask, to beg…“I’m fairly certain that I won’t be able to…” He shook his head with indignity and looked down at the ground in front of him. “That is to say… I know that I… can’t get myself back inside…” Harold felt a warm flush of color arise on his face and a trickle of sweat run down his back. “Do you…?”

“Say no more, Harold,” Josef interrupted, “I can plainly see that you need assistance and I am happy to oblige.” He felt awful that Harold was so humiliated by his circumstance and he smiled reassuringly at him, trying to alleviate his embarrassment. 

Harold looked up and saw assuredness had washed over his new friend and he felt a modicum of relief. “I’m afraid that I’m going to have to take the elixir… before the attempt is made.” He stated regretfully.

Josef took the initiative and opened the bag, retrieving the bottle of laudanum and the wine and carefully setting them on the running board of the coach.

He found the glass and poured some wine inside. “How many drops, Harold?” Josef smiled at Harold and took the dropper from the bottle.

“Six drops, please,” Harold was more than grateful for the young man’s thoughtfulness and sensitivity. 

Josef counted each drop carefully, then handed the laced wine over and put the stopper back it the bottle.

“I cannot thank you enough, my friend.” Harold held the glass between unsteady hands, “If you need to go and take care of any personal business, please do so now.” He suggested weakly, “It will not take long after I ingest the medicine for it to overwhelm and incapacitate me.”

 

“I’ll be back as quickly as I can. Are you sure you will be alright until I return?” Josef was hesitant to leave Harold alone in such a debilitated state.

“I will wait for you to reappear before I drink the tincture Josef… please do not worry. I will still be here when you get back.” Harold forced a smile for the concerned face and added, “I promise.”

The young man turned and walked to the edge of the foliage alongside the roadway. Looking back he smiled in reassurance then stepped through before disappearing behind the trees.

It was difficult to remain upright as Harold looked into the glass, distracting himself by silently recalling some of his favorite limericks and anxiously anticipating his new friend’s return. He could hardly wait for the blessed relief that would soon follow after the drugged wine was drank. He vaguely noticed the sound of leaves crunching underfoot as his coachman got nearer the path he’d taken through the woods. He looked up when he heard his voice next to him.

“Now, my friend,” Josef proclaimed. “Drink your remedy and do not fret, I will get you back inside and safely to Soars.”

Harold wasted no time. He put the tincture to his lips and finished it quickly.

Josef stood directly behind Harold and braced him against his own body as he began to fade. “I’m… so… sorry… Jo…” Harold’s body sagged increasingly before going completely limp in Josef’s gentle hold.

His pain receded and he sensed his body becoming lighter, as if he were floating on a cloud… blissful euphoria took over until he felt nothing more.

************

_“Nathan… is that him?” They sat across from each other on one side of a small café. Harold glanced through one of the large windows. They were in the countryside, in the middle of nowhere with not another structure in sight, yet somehow the scene made perfect sense._

_Harold felt at ease and happy sitting there with his tea in front of him and Nathan with his coffee. There was not another person in the establishment, save for one man across the room. Oddly, he felt an intense pull of curiosity and fascination with the tall, dark haired gentleman sitting alone, sipping a glass of dark burgundy and reading a book._

_Nathan chuckled and smiled, “I think it is, Harold. Why don’t you go over and introduce yourself, make a new friend,” he teased lightly. “There’s something about him that’s… unique.”_

_Harold huffed reticently, “I wouldn’t want to impose. He seems to be enjoying his book. I’m sure he would rather not be bothered.” The moment the words left his mouth, the stranger’s piercingly blue eye’s ascended from the page to latch on and look directly into his._

_The man’s persona threatened to engulf him instantly. He began to feel an unexpected wave of fear wash over him. He tried to get to his feet to quit the room, but could not stand._

_He tried to tear his eyes away from the man’s penetrating gaze, but could not even achieve that small feat._

_And then, just as suddenly as he experienced the intense fright, he found himself completely relaxed and tranquil. He was totally and utterly mesmerized by the enigmatic stranger’s profound cerulean blue eyes and chiseled features. A sense of deja vu came over him._

_Harold instantly wanted to be bound to him; he needed to be commanded by him and made to do his bidding. He desired nothing more than to serve him in any way he desired… in every way. He had never in his life felt so gratified just to be in the mere proximity of another man before._

_Harold’s heart was beating fiercely and he could feel the blood coursing through his veins as the stranger stood fluidly from his chair and approached through the expanse of the room. Their eyes were locked on to each other’s and did not waver._

_Harold felt his entire body flush with heat the nearer the stranger got to him. He could hardly breathe… there was no one else on earth but the two of them and he couldn’t be happier._

************

“Harold?” Josef stood over the slumbering form of his new friend and employer and tried to rouse the poor man as gently as possible. “Harold…?” He touched his shoulder lightly until he got a response from the unconscious man.

Harold blinked his eyes open sluggishly. He felt weak and disoriented, his mind was fuzzy and his thoughts were muddled. His memory had deserted him, “Where…?” was all that he could ask as he lay there and studied the small room he found himself in.

Josef understood. Harold had been lifeless for almost fourteen hours and the physical and mental strain put on him in addition to the laudanum were responsible for abolishing and robbing him of his most recent recollections.

It saddened Josef to see the gentle soul so out of sorts. He wanted to help Harold recover his memory to the present time but hoped that somehow he wouldn’t remember anything of the pain and humiliation he’d experienced since he’d taken the powerful elixir.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I need to know if you still want to proceed with the remainder of the journey?” Harold had been out completely all the way through the carriage ride to the town of Soars and had not even budged as Josef and the owner of the Inn carried him to the room Harold had pre-arranged before the trip.

Harold gazed around the room myopically, “Here sir,” Josef handed Harold’s spectacles to him helpfully.

“Where are we, Josef?” Harold saw light peeking in through the heavy curtains in front of a small window, “how long have we been here?”

“We’re in Soars; we arrived last evening.” Josef watched the confusion turn to realization and then embarrassment as Harold finally recognized what must have happened.

“You were in a bad way, you’ve been resting for some time now.”

Harold closed his eyes again and ran his tongue over his dry lips as he contemplated, then looked up at Josef, “I am so sorry that you had to see me that way.” He was mortified, “And had to tend to me as you would a child.” He shook his head in disgust, “I apologize from the bottom of my heart, Josef.”

“Nonsense,” Josef replied casually. Not wishing to distress Harold further, he poured some water from a pitcher on the nightstand into a glass. “Please sir, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

He moved his arm under Harold’s shoulders, being careful to avoid the back of his neck, and helped him sit up to take some of the liquid. “Had I been in need, I have no doubt whatsoever you would have aided me in any way you were able,” Josef stated. Harold swallowed down what was in the glass gratefully and laid back against the pillows.

He looked into Josef’s eyes and replied with complete sincerity. “Thank you… truly, my friend.” He searched his memory, still trying to stir himself from his period of unconsciousness. “What is the time?”

Josef pulled a watch from his fob pocket and looked at it, “It’s just after 8 a.m. How do you feel?” 

When Harold didn’t reply immediately, Josef regarded him. He could see that Harold was taking a mental inventory of how bad off he was and he didn’t press him for an answer.

Harold decided to ignore the question, “We are… how many hours from the estate at present?” He shifted in the bed, wincing from the movement but not daunted as he sat up, threw off the blanket and moved his legs over the side.

Josef winced in empathy, “If the trail is clear and the roads are not in disrepair,” he paused for a moment admiring the display of strength and determination he was witnessing and redirected his reply. “But surely you need more rest?” Harold was beginning to sweat from the effort and Josef could see the obvious discomfort in his face.

“I will rest further when we get to the property, Josef.” He smiled at the young man and rolled his shoulders carefully, loosening up tight muscles and stiff joints as much as he was able. “How long?” He didn’t want to delay their progress. He knew he needed more time to recuperate from the tremendously hard trip thus far, but it would save time and effort in the long run to take the interval all in one go, rather than spurts of recovery time.

He was damned either way so he wanted to keep to his schedule and suffer the consequences as they presented themselves.

One thing he refused to do was to put Josef back in the same position he’d just been through. If the necessity of having to rely on more laudanum arose again, he was determined that he would wait until he was at the estate to ride it out and recover there. 

“If we left by midday,” Josef replied tentatively. “We should arrive at your property by dusk,”

“Then let us not delay.” Harold reached out for Josef to help him stand and steady himself while he tested the strength of his left side.

Harold smiled at Josef, “I’ll be alright I think.” He nodded assuredly, “Please settle up with the proprietor and ready the horses; we should leave as soon as we can.”

*************

John had been in a daze all the previous evening and into the early morning hours just before dawn. He knew that the reason for his unusual condition was something relating to Harold, he could feel it and it frightened him.

When he’d finally realized that he had been automatically channeling some of Harold’s pain and his mental state, the sudden and overwhelming feeling of distress he had felt at the time had abruptly faded, only to be replaced with one of complete obliviousness. It was as if Harold had disappeared off the face of the earth. A melancholy washed over him.

Harold had to have been unconscious, there was no other answer for the abrupt difference John could feel in his senses. He knew he wasn’t dead. John would have known it the instant that dreaded event happened if that were the case, so at least there was that.

But the realization that this poor, benevolent soul lived his entire life with varying levels of pain day in and day out was utterly disheartening. A tear of sadness and gloom came to John’s eye as he thought about what the poor soul endures at all times.

John’s resolve was set in stone. He couldn’t bear the thought of Harold living in pain any longer. It was so utterly unnecessary. If nothing else ever happened between them, if Harold did not feel anything for him whatsoever or if he wasn’t even open to the idea of a romantic relationship, whatever the case turned out to be, John had to make Harold understand how much he wanted to take his pain away from him for the rest of his life.

He would tell Harold what he is and what he could do for him and pray he listens with an open mind. He would convince him that he could banish his pain and misery forever if he would only allow him to, no strings attached.

And John would pray that when Harold learned of his secret, he would not flee from him in horror or disgust or worst of all… fear. John wouldn’t be able to stand it if Harold turned out to be afraid of him.

John finally laid down to rest when he was sure of his plan. He closed his eyes and thought about this man that he has never yet laid eyes upon but without a doubt in his mind, a man he dearly loved.

*************

Harold re-dressed himself wearily. Getting his blood flowing again aided him to feel better overall but it was a chore leading up to being able to reap the benefits. Josef was squaring things away with the landlord and making the final preparations to leave.

Forty-five minutes later, as he’d just finished tying his favorite burgundy colored silk cravat and slipped on his charcoal gray waistcoat, there was a knock on his door.

“Everything is in order sir,” Josef announced as Harold slipped on his suit jacket and opened the door.

Josef was astonished, “If I may say so sir, you look quite striking.” He complimented the dapper man with great relief. The vibrant appearance Harold presented now was in stark comparison to the sickly pale figure of the man he’d seen less than an hour ago.

“Why thank you young man,” Harold smiled. “I’m sure I must look a sight better than I did,” He teased and stepped aside so Josef could come inside the room.

“Are you sure you have all of your belongings?” Josef asked distractedly, searching with his eyes for anything that might have been overlooked.

“I’m… fairly certain.” He too looked around, just in case.

“Let’s resume the journey then, shall we?” Josef nodded, picked up Harold’s bag and they left the room.

They walked through to the front of the house and into the brisk morning air. Harold thanked his young friend again for all that he had done for him. “I am in your debt for seeing me through everything Josef.”

“It’s what you hired me for,” Josef smiled. “The landlord was very pleased to have you. He doesn’t see many traveler’s come through the region and the money is very much appreciated.”

“I don’t mean with the landlord, or the driving Josef.” They paused at the coach. Harold turned towards the young man and took his free hand in his, “If it were not for you…” Harold swallowed the lump in his throat, “If it were anyone else, I would not have gotten through it.”

“I doubt that’s true,” Josef replied sheepishly, “I’m no one special.”

“Do not doubt me my young friend,” Harold began. “Humanity is changing. We are becoming a race of miscreants and sycophants, of selfish despots and fascists… of brute’s and illiterates.” Josef’s eyebrow’s narrowed as Harold went further, his demeanor had changed and he had become passionate in his assertions.

“I have seen the best and the worst in people, Josef. Take it from a man with an abundance of firsthand knowledge with individuals from of all walks of life.” Harold noticed that Josef had been taken aback by his discord and pulled back against his rant.

He smiled and shook his head, “There, I’ve done it again. I have frightened you and I am truly sorry Josef. It’s just that… Well, I have found a fondness for you that I did not expect.”

“No it’s quite all right, Harold. It’s true, you have lived much more than I have; you come from a big city and have done many things in your life I can only dream of.” Josef smiled in return, “I would be happy to listen and to learn from your experience anytime. I am honored that you have thought enough of me to want to share your wisdom and… I too am very fond of you.”

“When I am finished with my business here in your country,” Harold began solemnly, “I will be more than happy to help you and your family in any way that I can, if there is _anything_ that is in my power to give, you have only to ask.”

Josef’s heart swelled with great regard and admiration for the generous, gentleman standing in front of him. “You are too kind, Harold.” Josef shook Harold’s hand appreciatively and Harold returned the gesture.

“Now, let’s get this journey behind us, shall we?” Harold turned toward the carriage and stepped up and pulled himself inside. Josef stood directly behind him watchfully, then handed the bag over when Harold had gotten situated.

“Shout if you need to stop for any reason.” Harold nodded and Josef smiled at him one last time then closed the door.

**************

The journey went along as uncomfortable and unpleasantly as Harold expected it would. He’d pulled his copy of ‘ _The Brothers Karamazov_ ’, as well as the bottle of red wine from his bag as soon as they had started out from Soars.

He was determined to at least try to concentrate on something other than the painful jolting and jarring his body was being subjected to.

He’d skimmed the pages of his book futilely for as long as he could stand it. Now instead, he tried to apply the breathing techniques he’d learned after his accident to keep himself from crying out with every repeated shock the rough ride was sending through his bones and nervous system.

As had been the case before, Josef would intermittently shout above the road noise to check on his passenger. Harold replied as well as he could quickly, declaring that he was fine; a lie to satisfy his concerned friend’s worry.

Two hours later, they were climbing the foothills of the mountainside. The arduous slope was becoming much steeper, demanding considerably more effort from the large team of horses who were whinnying and snorting their displeasure fervently. Harold could just make out the sound of their hooves continuously slipping, losing traction against the hard mountainous topography and he was becoming increasingly nervous about it.

Abruptly, he heard absolute terror in Josef’s voice as he called out his name, “Harold! Hold on!”

There was no time to react.

Events seemed to slow to a crawl and he was powerless to interact with them. All sound turned in to a muffled cacophony of noise. Harold watched his bag rise from the floor and appear to hover in mid-air while each object inside seemed to be expelled from it and dispersed inside the space around him.

The wine and laudanum bottles crashed in to each other, sending a cascading array of shimmering green and brown shards of glass mixed with globules of liquid exploding in to the air.

He was only vaguely aware of tiny pinpricks of pain stinging every part of exposed skin, while voluminous drops of liquid were colliding against him, being absorbed in to his clothing. He watched numbly, somehow removed and powerless to stop the alarming course of events as they unfolded.

The door of the coach was suddenly wrenched off its hinges, disappearing from sight. His vision swam as vibrant images of earth and sky began to intermingle in rapid succession, creating a nauseating mélange of movement and color through the opening.

He felt nothing physically and was in a state of detached wonder until gravity came crashing back in on him at breakneck speed, and he was violently ejected from the coach.

His eyesight whirled and he felt his awareness tumble and spin along the ground, until his broken body came to an abrupt stop against a large boulder.

He couldn’t breathe as he lay in a crumpled heap, with the wind knocked out of him. His entire frame throbbed in time with every beat of his racing heart, before going completely numb.

As his vision began to fade, he saw through his narrowing view a few hundred yards away, his young friend lying on his stomach in the middle of the roadway.

As Harold’s eyelids grew heavy, the last horrific scene before his world went black presented itself… The horses were a blur of motion in the far distance, but in the foreground, Josef’s body lay prone and completely still in the middle of the roadway.

He was forced to watch on helplessly as the demolished carriage rolled clumsily towards his young friend’s body. He wanted to shout to warn him but he was unable to make a sound or move his own body, as what was left of the wrecked coach got closer until it came to lay at a complete standstill on top of him.

The image of his young friend being crushed beneath the wreckage would be branded into his memory forever. Harold took one last shuddering breath before his eyes shut out the world and his consciousness was pulled into the darkness.

*************

 _“Harold, you’re going to find a way through this…  I know you and you’re going to fight and come out of it intact.”_ He thought he knew the distant voice but he wasn’t sure.  He couldn’t see where it came from through the murkiness _. “I have seen your strength and resolve firsthand my friend, and you’re going to need every ounce of it again now to free yourself from death’s cold embrace.”_

He recognized it then. 

 _“I can’t see you, Nathan…”_ Harold tried to find his dear friend but saw only darkness around him. _“Where are you? I want to see you.”_ His chest was tightening with desperation, _“Please… I’m frightened!”_

_“Trust your instincts and be happy my dear friend… you will soon find the man you were meant for.”_

As Nathan’s words faded into the ether, Harold’s senses heightened.

************

John awoke in alarm. In his horrifying nightmare, Harold had been inside a horse drawn carriage traveling along the mountainside at great speed.

The horses had lost their footing and stumbled off the slick path, pulling the coach with them, causing it to topple over as it disengaged from the team and rolled violently, end over end, propelling him from inside.

John watched on helplessly as Harold’s body hit and tumbled along the road like a rag doll, being horribly battered and injured from the violent accident.

John’s entire body quaked in painful empathy. He knew that what he saw was not just in his dream… it had happened in reality, he could sense it. He had to get to Harold before it was too late. He picked up his time piece and held it to the candle’s soft glow.

Sunlight would be waning, it would cause him some momentary pain and discomfort to leave the safety of the darkness in his home and into the sun’s fading rays. But the transient discomfort would be nothing compared to the pain that Harold was enduring and it would as good as kill him if he were to lose the chance to save him.

There was no time to waste. Harold was dying; he had to find him immediately and bring him home.

************

“William, please hurry there is no time to lose!” John had rushed to his manservant’s house on the way to find Harold, and William followed behind John’s steed as fast as he could with his wagon and medical supplies. 

When they found Harold, so close to death, John was terrified that they were already too late and he would die before they ever got him back to his manor.

John struggled with himself about whether to turn Harold without his consent or let fate decide his outcome, but thankfully Harold was much stronger than he appeared and he was able to be stabilized long enough for the move.

Now, being this close to the man, John could _feel_ the pull that Harold had on him, it was something that John had not felt in a very long time… not since Jessica and he knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that they were meant to be together.

William had determined that Harold’s coachman had mercifully, had most likely been dead before the carriage had crushed him under its weight. Josef’s body was loaded into the wagon alongside Harold’s and John sat by his side and watched over him as they made their way back to his estate.

After Harold had been safely brought to John’s bedroom and settled in John began, “William, please see to this man’s remains and be gentle with his family. Leave them with sufficient funds to take care of the burial and to feed and house them for a year.”

William nodded and smiled at his benevolent master, “I will sir,” he looked at Harold sadly before leaving the room, “Do you think he’ll live?”

John nodded as he looked upon Harold with resolve and confidence, “He has to…” He looked at William’s smile and was reassured of the reason his servant was so special to him. “We are meant for each other.”

“Yes, sir. I can well see that.” With that William left to fulfill his task and said a silent prayer for his master and the poor soul that he had found.

************

For a long moment, Harold wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead. He couldn’t consciously remember anything and thought that if he was alive, he must be in some sort of daze. He tried to open his eyes, but he could only see a sliver of light, they seemed to be almost swollen shut.

He lay still and listened, but could hear nothing in the silence around him. Finally, he was able to determine that he was lying in a bed.

He tried to take a deep breath and was rewarded cruelly with sharp stabbing pain throughout his chest and midsection, stealing the air from his lungs.

He gasped and instantly knew that he must have somehow broken his ribs again. He panted shallowly, traversing the thin line between satisfying his body’s need for oxygen, and trying to hold his alarm at bay. His blood pressure mounted and anxiety began to take over.

When he realized that he couldn’t seem to move he began to panic further. His breaths were now coming short, in hurried succession and he began to feel lightheaded as fear took hold completely. He struggled painfully, he tried desperately to move his limbs but failed.

The pain was escalating and his disquiet swelled until it peaked, forcing a desperate cry of anguish and despair from his lips.

Suddenly, he felt a gentle hand on his bare shoulder and he settled down instantly. A calm reassurance washed over him. “Shh, you are safe... but you must slow your breathing…” The soft, masculine voice washed over him and eased the desolation that had consumed him. “I want to help you,” the man’s voice, his presence and his comforting words appeased Harold’s inner turmoil and he felt himself relaxing further, “I will take care of you… calm yourself for me.” Harold was mesmerized by his relaxing tone.

He was being lulled by the gentle cadence of the stranger’s voice but he needed answers for his confusion. “Please…“ Harold murmured weakly, barely having the strength to speak, “tell me... what happened?” He was just on the edge of consciousness.

With monumental effort, he forced his eyes open and saw the hazy outline of a familiar man sitting by his side. When his vision cleared he could hardly believe it, “Are you him…?” he whispered reverently.  “Are you… _Him?”_ he could hardly express his hope, his deepest desire that what he was seeing was real.

The man’s striking appearance was enthralling; he knew instinctively that this was the person that he had been drawn to in his dreams and he felt an alluring and calming warmth running through him.

“Don’t try to speak,” the man replied softly. “You have been in a very bad accident and are gravely injured.” The enigmatic man took a cool cloth and dabbed at the array of cuts and abrasions on Harold’s face. The compress stung and he hissed from the contact, receiving a frown of concern from the man.

“You have broken your leg and collar bone, and have many broken ribs. That is why there is pain when you breathe too deeply.” The stranger’s voice was a soothing balm to him and Harold was enthralled as he continued, “the vertebrae in your neck have been damaged again as well.” The man paused and looked at him sadly, “I see that you have already suffered with that injury in the past.”

Harold couldn’t communicate. He wasn’t really registering what was being said, he was focused intently on the man’s striking appearance as he continued caring for him, laying his gentle hands on Harold’s broken body, applying the cool cloth to his fevered skin, comforting him in so many ways.

He was vaguely aware that he was not really in any pain and thought it odd but he was immensely grateful and did not question it.

Whatever lingering apprehension Harold may have had melted away when the gentle man looked into his eyes deeply, conveying great concern, compassion and something more.

“I fear that you may have sustained internal injuries,” the man told him gently, “I pray that that I am wrong.” he turned away to rinse the cloth, releasing Harold’s fixed gaze.

As soon the stranger broke eye contact, Harold was suddenly struck with intense flashbacks.

He shut his eyes tightly as his mind was forced to relive the horrifying events. Visions of broken bottles and broken limbs, dizzying arrays of color and muffled sounds of distress and obliteration culminating into the terrible image of his young friend’s body being crushed beneath the coach.

He felt tears stinging his eyes as he asked weakly, “Josef?” He had to know for certain. When the stranger did not answer right away, Harold knew without question that he was dead.

“I’m sorry,” the man said sadly. “There was nothing that could be done for him.”

Harold choked up, “He was a good man.” It was painful to accept that the young man that had taken such good care of him and had made such an impression on him so quickly, could be gone.

Harold would make it the first order of business when he returned to London to see to his young friend’s wife and daughter.

“I have had his body sent back to his family in Fagarus,” the gentle man offered sympathetically. “I hope I have not overstepped my bounds.”

Harold bit back a sob. The thought of Josef’s poor wife having to see to her husband’s remains, in addition to having to explain to their young daughter that her father was dead, made his heart ache. The sheer kindness and compassion this stranger had shown him was almost too much, he was overcome with emotion.

“You are immensely kind sir…” he choked out, “You do not… even know me…” The stranger regarded him for a long moment, then smiled at him tenderly and caressed his cheek. “But I do know you…” he replied warmly.

Harold’s heart swelled with adoration and he did not doubt the man’s words, for somehow… Harold felt the same. He smiled in return; tears trickled from his eyes.

He never wanted to be away from this man… destiny had united them. He was sure when he looked into his eyes, the gentle man felt it too.

Harold opened his mouth to ask the stranger his name but suddenly, agony overwhelmed him with a vengeance, stopping the words in his throat.

John saw pain returning swiftly in Harold’s expression and took his trembling hand and covered it with his own.

He leaned in very close, “I’m sorry,” he whispered and kissed him on the forehead. “I delayed it for as long as I could.” John’s ability to mesmerize Harold and hold his suffering at bay had been lost. The charm had been broken and there was nothing he could do to regain it now.

Harold’s blood pressure continued to rise and his heartbeat hammered in his head, robbing him of the ability to think or reason. He couldn’t prevent the open cry’s and sobs of anguish that poured out of his mouth as his injuries made themselves known to him viciously.

His hand tightened vicelike around the strangers as anguish engulfed him, dragging him to the precipice of sanity with its force. “Ahh…! It’s too much!” He could now feel every broken bone and bruise, every cut and abrasion that had been inflicted upon his shattered body without mercy. “I can’t… please…I can’t take it!” he gasped desperately. “Oh, God… please… make it stop! Please…”

Every nerve ending in his body was screaming bloody murder at him and he prayed that he would pass out from the relentless onslaught.

He wanted to die… he was losing his mind, becoming incoherent as his entire body quaked and writhed in agony, “Help me please… it hurts… I can’t, please. Laudanum… I need laudanum…”

John wasted no more time. He stood up and partially filled a glass with wine from the nightstand. He thanked God that he had a bottle of the drug on hand for his mortal acquaintances. He quickly added some to the wine and swirled the glass.

“Here… drink.” John put the glass to Harold’s lips and carefully tipped the tincture into his mouth.

Harold did his best not to spill the liquid as he swallowed it down, but inevitably some dripped down the sides of his mouth in his haste to consume it. “Thank… thank, you, sir,” he panted gratefully, clenching his teeth and fisting his hands, waiting for blessed release to take him away from it all.

The stranger leaned down and again caressed Harold’s face tenderly.

Harold looked above him, through his bleary vision, and saw that there were tears in the gentle man’s eyes.

“You need rest now.” He seemed to look directly into Harold’s very soul as he stood over him. “You can sleep; I will watch over you.”

As Harold looked into the deep cerulean blue eyes, his mind quieted and he felt no more pain or sensation of any sort. His eyes fluttered shut and he was serene and somnolent now, and in the last few fleeting moments of consciousness, he heard the compassionate man whisper softly, “You are safe with me, my love… rest.” before oblivion ushered him away.

*************

  _“I’ve seen him, Nathan... spoken with him.” Harold exclaimed excitedly and felt the heat of the blush at it arose on his face._

_They were in his library at Harold’s home sitting by the fire, each with a snifter of brandy in their hand, “He’s very…” Harold paused with the glass to his lips, trying to decide what word best suited the mysterious man._

_“Attractive?” Nathan offered amusedly. He was so taken and happy to see the sparkle of excitement and enthusiasm in his dear friend’s eyes. “Gorgeous, charismatic… maybe charming is the word you’re looking for?” He added and smirked at Harold’s reticence to voice his fascination with the enigmatic man, “You’re smitten, aren’t you, Harold?” Nathan teased him._

_“I just met him!” Harold responded with mock annoyance, “I don’t even know his name.”_

_Nathan laughed at his flustered friend, “What’s in a name, Harold... does it really matter?”_

_Harold smiled and shook his head as he gazed into the fire, picturing John’s handsome face in his mind, “No, Nathan…you’re right. It really doesn’t matter at all.”_

************

Harold was in undeniably dire shape. John sat by his side and held his hand anxiously. He watched the trauma to his body manifest itself with twitching and tremors running through the tight, stiff muscles in Harold’s neck and shoulders. He knew the fight that Harold’s body was undergoing to keep him alive. It was heartbreaking and almost unbearable to have to witness, without putting a stop to it once and for all.

John couldn’t help but to think how easy it would be to end the struggle right now and not only save Harold’s life, but prolong it as well. He could heal his mortal injuries and he could rectify his existing injuries and make it so he never had to suffer with chronic pain again.

But the question was… would Harold want to be saved, knowing it would mean having to continue living as a vampire? Would the benevolent man be able to accept the unsavory prospect of needing to ingest living blood to sustain him for all of eternity? That question John had no idea of and he would not make that vital decision for Harold on his own; his conscience would not allow it.

He, himself, would probably not have chosen that path had he known of the loneliness and isolation he would have to undergo for so much of his existence. But now, here with Harold, John had another chance at happiness… if only Harold would agree to the transformation.

John sat next to him and caressed his face and stroked his soft hair tenderly. There was no doubt in his mind; this was the man meant for him. As he looked upon Harold’s pained expression, an overwhelming fear that he might  not accept his offer, took hold of him. 

John suddenly harkened back to his late wife with great regret and sadness. When the two had met and began to fall in love, John nervously explained to Jessica what he was and what he could offer her.

Their love was strong and she had accepted that he was confined to a certain way of life. She had found a love with him that she could never have imagined with anyone else and he felt the same for her. But she had made it known to him from the start that her religious doctrines would not permit her to accept what he could offer.

Jessica and her relationship with her God had, and would always, be paramount to her own way of life. When the time came, as much as she hated to leave her beloved husband alone for the rest of his life, her profound beliefs outweighed all else.

When she lay dying, it was an agonizing decision for him, but John had respected her principles and commitment to God, and did not try to dissuade her from her chosen path. From that moment until now John had lived a sad and very lonely existence.

*************

John was lost in thought as he ran the cool cloth over Harold’s fevered brow. As he looked upon his battered form, he was overwhelmed with emotion. John did not want death to claim him... he didn’t want to give him up; he didn’t think he would be able to stand it if he lost him now. Not when they’d just found each other.

He felt a tight pain in his chest, one he hadn’t felt in a very long time. A pain caused from the fear of losing this man, of the thought of never having had the opportunity to get to know him… or to have his love returned.

Just a short time ago, when Harold had spoken to him, looked into his eyes, John had sensed something from him, seen something there, as they gazed at one another. An expression that told him that Harold felt a connection with him too; he saw it in his regard, he was sure of it.

John had to give Harold the choice soon. To ask him the one question that stood above all the others…

Would Harold rather John allow him to die naturally… or would he accept his offer to turn him and live by his side as his partner for eternity? John could only hope and pray that Harold would take him up on his offer.

Now, with deep regret John was going to have to wake Harold up. The thought of him having go through unbearable pain again so soon broke his heart, but there was no other way and there was no time to lose. He wished there was another way but there wasn’t.

Harold’s broken body quaked and trembled under the blankets. Beads of sweat rolled from his face and neck, soaking the bedclothes beneath him.

There wasn’t much time left, death was very near and if John didn’t step in quickly, any chance of saving him would be lost forever. 

John held Harold’s face between his hands and spoke to him softly. “Harold, you must hear me.” he waited a moment, “Please… you must wake up and speak with me.” 

Harold still made no response whatsoever to John’s earnest plea.

Harold was oblivious to his surroundings. The laudanum had planted its roots deeply and was not letting go, John couldn’t get through to him verbally. With a heavy heart, he took Harold’s uninjured shoulder in his grasp and shook him as gently as he could to rouse him from his stupor.

Still, Harold made no indication of any kind, he was absolutely cataleptic. John was left with no other choice. He was compelled to use telepathy to revive him but the technique had been known to have its own dangers.

John took a deep breath and tried to steady himself for what he was about to do. He had to get through to Harold, ‘ _I have no other choice…I have no other choice.’_ he repeated to himself.

Entering another man’s mind was rarely a good idea, permanent psychological damage was a major concern in most cases, but in Harold’s case, that particular risk was not a factor he needed to worry about.

Harold was going to die regardless. There was no choice, John had to revive him and this rarely utilized technique was the only chance he had to do it before it was too late.

John sat down on the bed and took Harold’s hand and brought it to his lips. “I am so sorry…” he looked down at him mournfully and took a deep breath, closed his eyes and began to push his own consciousness inside Harold’s mind.

John performed what could only be described as a telekinetic mental slap to Harold’s subconscious again and again, until finally, Harold’s eyes opened wide and he cried out. John gasped and fought to regain his own control as Harold severed the connection with tears running down his cheeks.

Harold was in a state of merciless agony. His entire body throbbed from inside and out, and he could hardly breathe through it. He blinked up at the man above him unfocused. He was disjointed and confused, he couldn’t string a coherent thought together as his body shook uncontrollably.

“I’m here, Harold,” the man Harold did not recognize through his bleary vision, but somehow felt connected to, had spoken to him earnestly.

But Harold couldn’t hear what he had said through the pounding in his head. He was trying to take in air, but his breaths were becoming harder to maintain and were shallow and labored.

“Please…” he whispered through clenched teeth. “Please, God… please put an end… to my suffering.” He could feel adrenaline coursing through his body; a heart attack seemed imminent. His thoughts were a jumble. He awaited a foreboding sign to indicate the end of his life. He prayed for it. “Take me… please.”

John’s chest ached with Harold’s heartfelt plea and he could tangibly feel the life-force draining from his body. Harold was very near the end of his life and John would only have only one chance to convince him to give himself over to him before he took his last breath.

John gripped Harold’s hand tight and leaned over him, encouraging him to focus on what he was about to say to him. “Harold, please try to calm down. I know it hurts terribly, but you must trust me. Please Harold, please… look into my eyes.”

Harold tried with all of his waning strength to do as the man asked.

“Harold, please…” John implored and held him still so that Harold could not turn away from him. John knew the moment Harold finally had been able to see him clearly and comprehend what he was saying.

John smiled into Harold’s eyes and let out a long breath when recognition was shown through his gaze.

“I’m… dying, sir,” Harold whispered and fought to keep his eyes open, “please… give me your name… before I go.” He prayed that he would see Nathan in the afterlife and that he could tell him finally who the enigmatic man was.

John felt sick to his stomach. He swallowed down his fear and his sorrow and smiled into Harold’s eyes. “My name is John,” he replied desolately. “John Reese…”

Harold was stunned but suddenly pleased by the strange irony of meeting the aristocrat in such a manner, “The… Baron…?” he gasped weakly.

“Yes,” John smiled and blinked away tears from his eyes, “And we're meant to be together, Harold Wren… please stay.”

Harold couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, he was so tired… “I wish I could… honor your request…” he slurred softly, “but you see… I don’t have it in me…” He was going to die having only just met the man he was sure he could have loved. He mourned what could have been.

“I can save you, Harold.” John said quickly, “I can take your pain away and we can be together forever.” John kissed Harold’s hand, “Please, look at me, my beloved. You must hear me… please, understand me.”

Harold blinked his eyes open sluggishly and looked into John’s as best he could.

“I can make you well, if you choose.” John smiled and caressed Harold’s cheek tenderly. “But you must decide now before it’s too late.”

“How?” Harold asked faintly.

“You must let me drain you of your blood and then ingest mine while you still have life left in you.” For a moment, John saw disbelief and fear wash over Harold’s expression, “Please do not be afraid, my love…” John put his lips against Harold’s forehead and kissed him urgently and pulled back, “let me save you…”

When he looked into Harold’s eyes once more he saw the fear in his eyes had been replaced with understanding and hope.

Harold was dying, he knew it without any doubt. But if there was any chance at all of living to be with this man, this man that he had been drawn to in his dreams but was now here with him real and alive and whole... he wanted to try.

John Reese said that he loved him, and he knew that he returned that love. Whatever he needed to do would be easy if it meant having any chance to be with him.

“Yes…” Harold tried to turn his head to the side feebly, exposing the artery in his neck. “Please… please, do it.”

John was overjoyed but cautious. He needed to make sure Harold understand wholly what he was being offered, just as Jessica had all those years ago, but he didn’t have any more time now.

“Harold…” John took his face in his hands to look into his eyes, “There must be no doubt on your part. Do you understand what I am saying to you?

“I… do...” Harold breathed out and his eyes closed.

Harold’s life was quickly ebbing away and John prayed that he hadn’t waited too long. He quickly put his lips to the arterial juncture at Harold’s throat and licked his salty skin before releasing his hidden fangs.

He took a deep breath and bit into Harold’s carotid artery, sinking in comfortably. Harold made a sudden faint sound of surprise and his body tensed for a split second, before going completely slack as John held him gently in his arms.

John had never turned another before... and he found the experience both terrifying and sensually erotic as he pulled Harold’s lifeblood into his mouth, drawing it into his throat and swallowing it down.

Harold nodded in and out of consciousness, feeling a tugging sensation at his throat and his life ebbing away from him. It was almost over when he forced his eyes open one last time and looked above him at the coffered ceiling.

At first he was confused, he didn’t understand what was happening until he felt John’s solid weight against his chest and remembered suddenly what was happening.

With his last reserves of strength, Harold managed to bring his hand up to embrace the back of John’s head tenderly as he held him.

Harold was blissful and content as John continued to drain him. His arm fell to his side, he was completely drained of strength now and almost of life as John pulled away from him, crimson coloring his desirable lips.

“You must drink from me now.” John bit into the artery in his wrist and put it to Harold’s pale lips.

Harold was too weak, he didn’t have the strength to swallow what John was offering him, and for a moment, John was terrified that he had taken too much of his blood… he had doomed the only opportunity they had with one another.

“Please, Harold. You must drink.” He heard John encourage him faintly, “Please you…” and then Harold heard nothing more.

*************

_He was in a state of limbo. He was walking through a mist until he saw a bench in the distance with a man sitting facing away from him. He got closer and saw that it was Nathan. He smiled at his dear friend as he turned around to face him._

_“What are you doing here, Harold?” Nathan teased him affectionately. “You need to go back and be with the man you were meant for.”_

_“I’m not sure; do you really think it’s true? Could he really love someone like me? He doesn’t even know me.”_

_“Are you sure that you love him?” Nathan asked astutely._

_Harold smiled openly and without hesitation he answered, “Yes. I’m sure.”_

_“But Harold… you don’t even know him.” Nathan laughed and stood up. He pulled Harold in to a hug. “Go back now before you scare him to death.”_

_Harold nodded and smiled back warmly, “You were right, Nathan.”_

_Nathan looked at him confused. “Right about what my friend?”_

_“You said that I could be happy here.” Harold smiled, “you were right on all counts, I can feel it.”_

_Nathan chuckled and turned Harold back in to the direction he came from and pushed him forward. “Hurry now, or it will be too late,” he chuckled._

_Harold smiled and walked back to where he started from and looked for some sort of door or portal. He stopped when he saw a faint light approaching from a distance and watched as it grew larger and larger still until it engulfed him entirely._

************

He opened his eyes and instantly latched on to John’s terrified expression. “Please, drink from me, my love,” he implored.

Harold smiled up at John and parted his lips. “Thank God…” John sighed in relief and moved behind him, cradling Harold’s frail, naked body in his arms and put his arm to Harold’s mouth, introducing his own life restoring blood to his system.

Harold suckled from John’s wrist, his eyes fell closed and he could feel his energy and his hunger returning voraciously. His hands came up and held John’s arm firmly to his lips and pulled greedily, astonished and relishing the relief and the strength it brought to him so quickly.

“Harold… you must slow down.” He heard John’s gentle voice over the voice in his own head demanding more and slowed his intake as much as he could.

John was feeling weak now from his own blood loss.

“That’s it.” Harold heard John praise him. “Now, stop and prepare yourself for our blood to intermingle.”

Harold was out of breath when he released John’s arm. He looked into John’s anxious expression and waited for something to happen.

“It will be extremely painful, but you are strong and have managed already for all this time,” John explained, “I have faith in you, Harold. We will soon be as one.”

Harold’s heart swelled with love as John smiled and laid down to face him. He tried not to anticipate what kind of pain he would have to deal with as they lay there basking in each other’s presence.

For a long moment they just looked into each other’s eyes and said nothing. But then the pain was revealed as Harold’s muscles began to tighten and his insides twisted. He felt as if fire surged through his veins and he cried out in sudden agony.

John put his strong arms around him and held him close, rocking him as his bones knitted back together and his injuries healed. John was disconsolate as he witnessed the terrible sight of renewed suffering Harold had to endure.

Long, agonizing minutes elapsed until mercifully the pain began to dissipate, and Harold’s body twitched incessantly until finally relaxing in John’s embrace.

“It’s over now, my beloved,” John explained. “You are as I am now… you will never again hurt as you have.” He kissed Harold’s brow and held him close.

Harold was exhausted as John laid him down and covered him. “How do you feel?” he asked expectantly and wiped away the remnants of his blood from Harold’s mouth.

“I’m tired, weak…’ Harold smiled up at him, “but that’s all. There is no more pain.”

John caressed his cheek and leaned in to kiss his forehead. “You must sleep now; you will need to recover from the transformation. When you wake we will discuss everything.”

Harold was amazed, grateful for the chance encounter that restored his life and made him whole again. “Stay with me?” he asked hopefully. “Please?”

John smiled at him and turned down the bedclothes. “Of course.” He disrobed and got in beside Harold and turned to face him.

Harold lay on his back and turned his head to look at his new lover. Tears sprang from his eyes and he sobbed suddenly.

John was alarmed and sat up quickly, “What is it, what’s wrong?”

Harold quieted his outburst and dried his eyes. “I can turn my head…” he choked out. “I haven’t been able to do that in more than two years.”

John breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, pulling Harold close. “You’ll find that’s only the beginning. Now rest.”

Harold closed his eyes and slept painlessly for a very long time, a luxury that he had dearly missed. When he awoke, John was sitting by his bedside, smiling at him. “Now, how do you feel?” he asked expectantly.

Harold stretched his body with ease and once again became emotional. “I can hardly believe it,” he replied. “I have never in my life felt so well… how?”

“How is it possible?” John interjected.

Harold smiled and nodded.

John began, “By all accounts you were dead for a fraction of time while my blood cells consumed yours. When they had fully expended the cells in your damaged body, the healing process began and righted your injuries.” John paused and smiled into Harold’s astonished expression. “Are you alright?” he smiled warmly.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I just… I still can’t believe you found me when you did.” Harold shook his head, still dazed by everything. “I… I am in awe of how we came to be together.”

“I have known we were destined to be together for some time now,” John admitted. “I had felt it even before now… I felt it upon seeing your name… and then I dreamed your horrible accident and I was terrified that I would be too late to save you.” John closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath, “When I found you, there was no doubt left in me,” he looked deeply into Harold’s eyes, “We are soulmates, you and I.”

Harold smiled warmly, “I must admit, I did not believe in fate until this day,” he began. “But I have seen your handsome face in my dreams as well… and now you are here as proof to me that we truly are meant to be.”

“Yes, Harold, we are meant to be and there is nothing that brings me greater joy than the thought of having you in my life.” John leaned in close and kissed Harold tenderly. "I love you."

“And I love you John but please promise me something…” Harold pulled John down to him and took his own kiss with urgency and intent behind it. When John had a moment to recover from the ardent exchange of lips and tongues he answered, "Anything you want..." and smiled into Harold's eager gaze, feeling warmth pooling in his groin.

“Promise that you will keep me forever... that you will never let me go.”

“I promise that I will keep you always, my love… always.”

Harold smiled into John’s eyes and drew him by the hand to lay beside him, “Let us not waste another moment to consummate our love…” he kissed John tentatively then pulled away for only a second before hungrily taking his lips again.

John returned Harold’s fervor, pulling him flush against his hard body, “Yes…" he sighed passionately, "everything else can wait.”

 

EPILOGUE

Baron John Reese and his beloved Harold Wren had found in each other everything that had been missing from their lives before. They spent the rest of their very long existence together enjoying and reveling in each other’s company.

Harold Wren sent word back to Nathan’s distinguished attorney Sir Edward, that he had decided to stay in Romania after all. He had arranged that his young friend Josef’s wife and daughter be provided for with the funds that came from the sale of his property and belonging’s from his home in London. They would not want for anything for the rest of their lives.

The only thing Harold had asked for himself was his treasured library of books and a daguerreotype of Nathan that had been taken when he was in his prime.

THE END


End file.
